Drowning World by Alan Dean Foster Page B

Pulling it from his service belt, he waved the compact short-range beacon he had used in his futile attempt to signal the incoming skimmer. “Right now this is all we've got that we know works. I wouldn't want to bet that Commonwealth Administration would be in any hurry to send out a second craft to look for you. Not for a while. They'll assume you're taking your own good time looking for me.” Rising and turning, he peered off into the flooded forest. “Sitting around waiting to be picked up didn't do me much good, did it? I'm not going to hang around here waiting for another skimmer that may or may not be on its way.”
    “I agree.” Jemunu-jah moved to stand closer to the human. “So much noisemaking will have attract many meat eaters. They all around this place, waiting to sample taste of food that talks.”
    Masurathoo rose so fast that he bumped his head on an overhanging branch. “What meat eaters, where?” He gazed worriedly out into the rain. “I do not see anything.”
    “They there. They always there. Strange noises draw them close, make them curious. Better to leave this place and let them explore Mr. Hasselemoga's skimmer.” Raising a long fur-covered arm, Jemunu-jah pointed eastward. “Are many villages scattered throughout deep Viisiiviisii. If we can find one, we have food and safety. Better than wait here for rescue craft that may not come.”
    “And a village will have contact with another village, which might have contact with another, that in turn has contact with an outpost of civilization.” Hasa was in full agreement with the Sakuntala. Jemunu-jah refrained from pointing out that
every
Sakuntala village was an outpost of civilization. This was neither the time nor the place to launch into an extended argument with the human. That, and possibly more forceful objection, could come later. Right now he needed the human, if only to have something edible to shove between himself and a marauding casokul.
    An agitated Masurathoo eyed both his companions askance. “You will please excuse me if I take leave to disagree with the both of you. Our best chance for surviving this regrettable situation is to remain here, near our downed craft that others are sure to come looking for.”
    “Looking and finding are two different things.” The human was already focusing his efforts northward, in the general direction of distant Taulau. How many Sakuntala villages might lie between that teeming outpost of Commonwealth civilization and their present location no one knew. Nor did Jemunu-jah's presence guarantee them a cordial reception even if they managed to reach one. But anything was better than sitting still doing nothing. Also, Hasa agreed with the native: all the commotion was bound to have drawn the attention of local predators. If either skimmer had remained intact and above water, he might have decided differently. On the other hand, without such protection from the roving hazards of the flooded forest, he felt that the sooner they vacated the area, the better.
    Besides, if you stayed in one place in the Viisiiviisii for any length of time, things would start to take root on you.
    “Something else,” he added. “Whoever did this, for whatever reason, might not be completely confident that just marooning me out here is enough to do the job. After a while, they might decide to come and check on the results of their handiwork personally.” He patted his side arm. “Since this is about all I've got in the way of defensive ordnance, I'd rather not be around in case they show up.” His attention turned back to Jemunu-jah.
    “All right, big-ears—this is your country. Pick a direction. I usually lead, but when someone else knows the territory better than me, I'm not ashamed to follow.”
    “It is not that simple. We cannot just go straight northward.” Turning, Jemunu-jah indicated a complex of interlocked trees and lianas. “Except for places where is no other choice, we must keep above the